Next
by Evangelical
Summary: Having the title of Vongola Decimo dumped onto his lap was hardly a boon when the previous candidates either committed suicide or went insane. So, it was only a matter of time before Tsuna too fell apart.
1. The Beginning

**Title: **Next

**Summary: **Having the title of Vongola Decimo dumped onto his lap was hardly a boon when the previous candidates either committed suicide or went insane. So, it was only a matter of time before Tsuna too fell apart.

* * *

The mansion was situated deep within the forest, far away from the prying eyes of civilization. From the fringe of the dark forest the matte white walls of the mansion seemed to glow faintly in the sunlight. Even though a tall, unforgiving fence surrounded the perimeter, one could still see the mansion standing in all its glory. The garden and the entrance seemed almost painfully inviting, as if daring anyone to enter the white walls.

In the depths of the building rested a group of teens. The room was large and ornate; the walls were decorated with a flourish of cream and orange, and brilliant chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Yet despite the many lights the room was dark and heavy; the only light came from the sunlight, which poured through the window relentlessly, and the painted rainbows moving in tandem to the shifting glass above.

Mukuro stifled a sigh and sat down, crossing his fingers in his lap. It had been an eventful day, and with the funeral done and over with, he could finally move his next piece forward on the metaphorical chess board. Though—

"Well, that was boring," he said, every word a drawl. Hopefully the next person could keep him sufficiently entertained for at least a several days.

Gokudera scoffed in disdain. "Tch, what did you expect?" Mukuro smirked—trust Gokudera to lose his temper first—and leaned forward, contemplating what move he should make next.

With a hesitant look, Nagi stepped foward and peered over his shoulder. "Then, have we chosen—?"

"Yes," Mukuro said, cutting her off curtly. With a wave of his hand he produced a manilla folder and held it out. "This one."

Nagi opened the files and began to scan the profile, her frown becoming more distinct with every passing second. "Are you sure?" she asked gently. "He doesn't look that interesting."

Mukuro looked at her. "Of course I am," he replied.

Gokudera started but wisely fell silent; though Mukuro was his leader, Gokudera rarely made it through a single day without objecting to two or three of his decisions. The bomber had learned that Mukuro only tolerated Nagi's gentle inquiries after a certain length of time the hard way.

Mukuro peered irritably at the rest of his group. "Well, what are we waiting for? Somebody call the maid in."

Gokudera relented first, spitting onto the ground before he complied. "Come in!" he yelled, cold and harsh. All of the teens could hear the panicked shuffle of clothing from the other side of the wooden wall. With a loud groan the golden double-doors creaked open, and a flustered girl with long black braids stumbled into the room.

"What do you need?" she asked quickly.

Yamamoto, tall and tanned, took the folder from Nagi. "Next," was all he said, with a brilliant smile he passed the folder to the braided maid. The maid took the folder with a quiet nod.

"Well, what are you standing there? Scram!" Gokudera snapped.

The maid stiffened and bowed rapidly, eager to escape from the confines of the room that seemed to press against her from all sides. Closing the door quietly, she ran out, unwilling to disturb her masters' peace and quiet with her impertinence.

From outside the dark room everything was bright and warm. The maid peered at the folder held daintily between her fingers, shoving away the unease that she felt at the sight of it. It was just her job, she repeated to herself sternly, and it was a well-paying one at that. She wasn't going to ruin her life by asking unnecessary questions. Her boyfriend worked in the building, and this was as close to him as she could possibly get.

With that thought in mind the maid wandered through the maze of hallways until she located the head office. No one sat behind the mahogany desk, and the silence was almost deafening to her ears. Her hand grabbed at the black phone, dark eyes reading the numbers, once, twice, three times that was written clearly across the sheets. The dial tone rang as it sent her request, and she wet her lips nervously as she waited for the other to pick up.

_"Hello?"_

"This is I-Pin from the Vongola Headquarters. You have been requested to meet in the Headquarters at 12:00 pm in two days. Please show up dressed accordingly for the occasion." She waited on bated breath for the answer.

There was a surprised intake of breath from the other end of the line. _"I—If I may ask, what do the Vongola want me for?"_

I-Pin closed her eyes, faltering. "To talk. Is there anything else?"

_"N-No."_

Good, she thought tiredly.

"See you in two days. Do not be late." Before she could hear the other's kind voice, she hung up and set the phone back to its usual position. Her eyes drifted over to the folder one last time, scanning over the scattered papers, before she turned off the lights and nearly ran out of the room.

* * *

He walked down the pathway nervously, mentally griping the entire way.

For the twentieth time that day, Tsuna tried to readjust his suit so it remained presentable when he finally arrived at the mansion. No matter how many times he pulled the clothing back into place, it continued to move, courtesy of the pulling branches and twigs that littered the forest. Leaves constantly tugged at his hair, and he already had to pause multiple times in order to untangle his brown locks from the multitudes of branches.

When he had first received the call the afternoon two days ago, he had been surprised. He had been at home, spending well-earned time with his mother, who he only saw a few days in a year. Ever since he had first joined the Vongola, his everyday life became extremely busy, to the point that he could no longer return home. If he had known that he wouldn't be able to spend time with Nana then he wouldn't have chosen the job. Tsuna had to admit that it paid well, though, and he was grateful that he had found some form of work that allowed him to support both him and his mother. When Iemitsu had died three years ago while working for the CEDEF, the Sawada's had been left jobless, and Tsuna wasn't about to throw away the boon life had set in front of him.

His lips turned into a small frown. To the rest of the world, the Vongola was a famous company that owned many well-known brands in the world. Even Nana and Kyoko didn't know what the Vongola really was. Although he wasn't too fond of their morals, it was already too late for him to quit—once a person joined the mafia, they couldn't leave. He had been too naïve when he had first joined to understand the full effect that the crime world had on his friends and family.

Despite being a Mafioso, he had yet to see anyone die. He had expressed his complaints when he had first realized that the Vongola was far from it seemed, and in return the Ninth had assigned him as a simple messenger. It was a simple, unimportant job, but Tsuna appreciated the assignment. Typically the only messages he had to pass was to the CEDEF, who always seemed to be using technology one way or another. From what he was aware of, the members of the CEDEF that he worked with hadn't killed yet.

Thankfully. He would rather quit if he had to bear the burden of being accomplices of—killers.

Because it was such a famous organization though, he would have thought that the mansion would be located in somewhere more convenient. The chauffeur was forced to drop him off at the edge of the forest because the only road leading to the mansion had been fenced off. "Just follow the streets," the chauffeur had suggested helpfully before driving away. But even the edge of the forests had bushes and trees for him to be tangled on, and he was not enjoying it.

Tsuna fingered the edge of his suit. He was wearing the outfit that he attended the rest of his work in, because he didn't want to spend extra money paying for another set of clothes. Like always, it was mandatory for him to wear a white blouse beneath the dark suit. The black tie contrasted the white, blending into the darkness of the rest of his outfit. When he had left his apartment, his hair had been neat—at least, neat compared to how his hair was when he rose out of bed—but now he couldn't say for sure. He wished silently that he had brought a brush with him, and resigned himself to threading his fingers through his hair.

After what seemed like an eternity of tripping over everything manageable and unmanageable, he laid his hand against the forbidding gate. Tsuna pulled at it lightly and frowned when he realized that it was locked. He flipped open his phone and checked the time in anxiety; he had three minutes left. That wasn't much time to run to the entrance and to find the meeting room, far from it.

His eyes scanned over the fence desperately, and he recognized a familiar box. His house back at Japan had something similar. He ran over to it and pressed a button.

A voice buzzed from the other end, a different voice from the phone. "And you are?"

"Sawada Tsunayoshi," he stated breathlessly. He could almost feel the eyes scrutinizing him to see if there was a trace of deception.

Apparently the person was satisfied, because the gate vibrated once and unlocked with an audible click.

Tsuna yanked the gate open and ran inside, checking his phone again. Two minutes. Thankfully he had chosen to leave the apartment nearly an hour early, because if he had assumed that everything would go smoothly then he would have been late. 'Better to be safe than sorry,' he thought fondly, he practically lived life based off of that statement these days.

Breathing heavily, he stumbled to a stop by the front entrance and rapped his hand once, twice, three times before he was satisfied. Tapping his feet impatiently against the ground, he peered at his screen once again. One minute.

The door opened, and a childlike face greeted him. A small boy, shorter and undeniably younger than him, peered around the corner with a cautious smile. He was wearing a similar suit, contrasting black and white, and had light brown hair that rested atop the small head. Hazel eyes looked at him curiously, as if questioning why he was there.

Tsuna put his hands atop his knees, momentarily distracted from the oncoming meeting. "I-I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi, but please call me 'Tsuna.' Could you take me to the meeting please?" He grimaced at the stuttering but otherwise fell silent.

The child nodded and pushed the door open wider. "Come with me."

Tsuna followed the small child obediently, unsure of what to think. He couldn't think of any reason why such an innocent little boy was in the most feared mafia famiglia in the world, not that he wanted to imagine the circumstances. Instead he allowed his gaze to wander around the building, taking in the sight for the first time.

Compared to the CEDEF base, everything was more…ornate. That was the way to describe it, he decided. Everything was larger and grander than anything he had seen before, and he couldn't begin to fathom the amount of money that must have been spent in designing the entire building. The corridors were luxurious, the ceiling perhaps two or three stories high, and the lights cast an orange hue upon everything it shone upon. The smooth carpet muffled the sound of his footsteps, something that he found rather odd, because he had assumed that Mafiosi might prefer to be able to hear their assailants approaching.

After a maze of paths and walkways the little boy halted in front of a singular door. The hall seemed nearly identical to the others; even the door seemed no different than the door to the kitchen or the door to the recreational room. All of the designs were identical. Before Tsuna could muster his courage the boy lifted a small hand and knocked, the small sound offensively loud in the tense silence.

"It's open!" called a voice, and the boy turned his head to meet Tsuna's gaze. His eyes skimmed over Tsuna's appearance.

The boy pointed at his chest. "Your tie's off, let me straighten it for you." Tsuna felt heat gather at his cheeks as he stammered something incoherent. "No, kneel down and hurry. They don't like to wait."

The older brunet ducked his head in submission and dropped to his knees. Small hands raked over his chest, fumbling at the fabric of his clothes for a second before they were gone. Tsuna looked up again, this time in trepidation, and perhaps the fear showed on his face. The small child looked him over once more before smiling gently.

"You'll be fine, just be yourself. And…Tsuna-nii?" The boy tilted his head to the side contemplatively.

Tsuna opened and shut his mouth, feeling the heat burn his cheeks even more. "Tsuna…nii?"

"My name is Fuuta, Fuuta de la Stella," the boy grinned slyly. "I'll be waiting outside until you're done talking to them. Remember to smile, don't be nervous, and good luck, Vongola Decimo."

"What?"

Small hands shoved his back, and with a small laugh Fuuta pried the door open again. Tsuna yelped in shock as they pushed him firmly into the room beyond. He turned around, intent on questioning the child on his words, but the golden double-doors shut with a loud click, leaving him at the mercy of what lay in the room. But even as he began to think about it he became aware of the six—no, seven—pairs of eyes that rested on his back analytically.

There was a lump in his throat that he couldn't seem to swallow, no matter how hard he tried. He could feel his stomach dropping rapidly, and his knees were trembling beneath his dress pants. "Don't be nervous," Fuuta had said, but it was easier said than done. He imagined that his blush had long since vanished from his face, replaced by the pale pallor that was often associated with fear and nervousness.

Tsuna turned around slowly, trying to pull himself together enough to make at least a decent impression with his bosses. He resisted the urge to run his fingers through his hair again in a vain attempt to smooth his appearance.

The hall was opulent, adorned in designs and lights yet not seeming too cluttered at the same time. Beneath his once-clean shoes was a cranberry red carpet, and all at once he felt slightly guilty that he was undoubtedly tracking dirt and grime onto the surface. In front of him, perhaps forty meters away, began a grand staircase, each step leading higher and higher until it reached the final platform. On the elevated surface rested an empty throne of red and black, the seat plush and comfortable to the eye. Near the top of the seat was an engraved X, and beneath the X was a symbol that Tsuna could not see. Behind it a black curtain hung silently, the golden insignia of the Vongola displayed prominently for all to see. He suppressed a silent shudder, from what he didn't know.

Standing on the staircase were the owners of the seven gazes. At first glance the only thing that connected them was the clothes; each person was wearing a similar black suit and tie, except with a different colored blouse underneath. Yet everybody was wearing it slightly differently, undoubtedly from their own individual tastes. The slight differences spoke volumes on their individual idiosyncrasies.

The first to move was one of the men standing near the corner. The man was wearing a distinctive red suit, the black jacket hanging loosely by his sides. Silver hair dangled down to his chin, and a lone cigarette smoked between his lips. He had a ferocious scowl fixed on his face, sharp green eyes glaring at everything in its line of sight, and when they fixed on his face Tsuna flinched.

The silver-haired man spat in disgust. "Che, that's the candidate?" He lifted the cigarette away from his mouth, white smoke trailing from his lips. "He looks weaker in person."

"Now now, Gokudera-kun. Don't be so judgmental." The light, airy voice came from another person, one with his hands raised casually behind his head. He was tall and tan, an easygoing smile adorned on his face, warm hazel eyes looking away from Tsuna but to the silver-haired man. He seemed like the type of person that everybody would adore, the type of person that would be at the top of the social ladder that always seemed to form in school. Beneath his suit was the blue shirt.

Gokudera scowled. "Shut up, baseball-freak."

Baseball-Freak only grinned in response. Something about his smile was vaguely familiar.

A scoff drew all attention in the room to another person. The first that Tsuna noticed was that the teen was reminiscent of a pineapple; wisps of blue hair framed the pointed face, accentuating the heterochromatic eyes. Particularly, the red eye seemed to glow from the socket, and he shivered involuntarily. Danger, his mind screamed, and he stepped back unthinkingly. Something about him radiated power and strength, stealing what was left of his shattered security and replacing it with fear fear fear.

"Kufufufu, he does raise a point." The sensual lips spread into a long smirk. "In the picture he didn't look as…vulnerable."

Something about the words made him shiver.

"Mukuro-sama," a girl's voice chided softly. "Be nice." By the looks of her hairstyle, either they were siblings, or one of them had emulated the other's fashion taste. He suspected that it was the latter. Violet locks replaced blue, hanging down her cheeks, emphasized by the indigo of her dress shirt and the color of her eye. He wondered vaguely how the girl had injured her other eye; it was hidden by an eyepatch.

Tsuna felt himself relax minutely at her voice. It was disarming, almost alarmingly so, but he couldn't help it. She seemed delicate and fragile, nothing like Mukuro who spoke before her. It showed in the way she stood, with her shoulders slightly bowed, and the way that she clasped her hands in front of her. She didn't look like she had enough strength to run a mile.

"Well, what have we got here?" A lanky teen peered down, one eye seemingly permanently shut. The teen had dark curly hair, sticking up all over the place, although it was not nearly as bad as Tsuna's own hair. He dropped down into a crouch, slinging his arms onto his knees with a careless grace. "Do you think you're good enough for the great Lambo-san?"

Tsuna started when he realized that the green-suited man, Lambo, had been addressing him. "G-Good enough…for w-what?" he stuttered, unprepared.

He could feel their disappointment hit him like a punch though they had said nothing; their silence spoke for them. Tsuna dropped his gaze to the ground, mortified to feel the beginnings of heat collect in his cheeks. God, he needed to collect himself right this minute, because he couldn't screw up something this important.

Too late, a portion of his mind shot back snidely.

Then a thought occurred to him, and he lifted his head as if to speak. At his movement all their heads swerved to watch him, and their accusatory glares seemed to burn into his head painfully. The words died in his throat, he couldn't seem to breathe past the growing lump of disappointment and anxiety that made his heart hammer heavily against his chest.

It took all his strength to force his voice to work. "W-Who are you?"

Silence, then Mukuro spoke again with that condescending smirk. "What, you haven't heard of us?"

Tsuna shook his head in a negative.

Gokudera blew the hair out of his face, dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping on it angrily. "We're the guardians of the Vongola. Ring a bell?"

But Tsuna didn't hear the question, or at least, didn't register the words past the mad whirling of his mind. The Guardians were said to refer to the six people who protected the Vongola boss from harm. They were the most affluent and influential members of the Vongola famiglia, not to mention that they were rumored to be the most infamous set of Guardians in the history of the Vongola. Word of the Guardian's cruelty had spread, such as how they had killed a guard for sleeping on duty, or how they had tortured the mechanic that had accidentally damaged the sink. In order to ensure their security, the previous Vongola bosses and guardians had taken steps to protect their identities to all that didn't need to interact with them face-to-face. Because of this, Tsuna had never heard of their faces, ages, or names even though he was technically a member of the CEDEF.

Perhaps some of the recognition shone on his face, because Gokudera muttered something about at least recognizing that much.

He swallowed again as the room dropped into silence. By the encouraging smile on Baseball-Freak's face, it seemed that he wouldn't get any answers without voicing any questions. His mind flitted back to Fuuta, waiting on the other side of the door for him, and he steeled himself. "W-What do the G-Guardians n-want to talk to me fo-for?" Tsuna inwardly grimaced at his stuttering but he couldn't help it; the intimidating gazes from Gokudera, Mukuro, and one unnamed man in the violet dress shirt was enough to make his knees knock in fear.

Strangely it was Mukuro who responded to his question. "Well," he said idly, "you need to agree to our invitation first. If we tell you and you don't accept, we'll be inclined to remove you from the picture."

Straight and blunt, Tsuna thought weakly. His stomach swooped sickeningly, and he shoved his hands behind his back, trying to hide their useless trembling, as he fought to regain his voice. "And your in-invitation is…?"

The grin grew wider. "Can't tell you."

Tsuna opened and closed his mouth. "B-But then—"

"You're always free to leave."

It was a test, he realized, a test of his daring and courage. They were testing him to see how decisive he could be in the face of an unknown. He closed his eyes in hesitation as he grappled his mind, trying to sort through all the facts he knew, before he approached his answer.

The strangest thing was that part of him _wanted_ to accept. It's a chance, another voice whispered, a chance that would never come again. He had the feeling that the proposal was something…large, something monumental, something that would change his life in a way that he never would have expected. But the other part of his mind said no, he should not go, he could always leave and never come back. Nothing would change in his position in the Vongola…right?

"I—" his voice echoed through the silent room— "I'll—accept the proposition." With every word his voice dropped in volume until it was nothing more than a mere whisper. "So, what did y-you call me for?"

He didn't look up in time to see the mild looks of surprise flickering across nearly all of the Guardian's faces, save Mukuro and the violet-suited man. Instead he kept his sorrel gaze fixated on the ground, trying to keep himself from falling. His heart still wouldn't stop hammering, the pulse drumming through his head, and his palms were already sweaty and hot. He wanted the meeting to end, and end soon, because there was nothing else he wanted more at the moment than to return to the peaceful monotony of his life.

But apparently fate didn't want it to work that way. Mukuro leaned forward in interest, and he found himself on the other end of the mismatched scrutiny. "Oya oya, so you actually agreed…I didn't think you would, Sawada Tsunayoshi. May I ask why?"

Tsuna shrugged his shoulders, keeping his movements small and restrained. "Why not?" he voiced rhetorically, and he was surprised to see Mukuro's lips twitch in amusement. To his side the violet-haired girl gave him an odd look that he couldn't read.

"'Why not,'" Mukuro parroted slowly. "Well stated."

Gokudera snorted, as if to say, _just you wait._

He shrugged his shoulders again in response, instead diverting his attention to the throne behind the guardians. It was still empty; come to think of it, typically there were only six, but none of the seven were dressed in the regal manner that he would have expected as the boss to dress. The black and red seat seemed oddly empty without its inhabitant, and he wondered where the Vongola Decimo was.

In front of him Mukuro began to move again; he moved with a predatory grace that put tigers and lions to shame. "As you've noticed, the throne's empty…the throne's the place where the current Vongola boss is supposed to sit during formal meetings such as this. But there is no one sitting there, because of one simple reason: we have no boss."

Tsuna gave a start. "But the Ninth—"

"The Ninth is dead," Gokudera interrupted curtly. "He's been dead for three shitty months now. Naturally his Guardians were dismissed with him, leaving us the positions of the Guardians. But we're nothing without a boss; without a boss, what are we the Guardians for?"

He rubbed his brown hair in mild confusion. Being a low-level member, he hadn't met the Ninth in person, but from what he had heard the Ninth had been an awfully kind man. "Surely I would have heard by now if Vongola Nono had died—"

Gokudera looked at him scornfully. "Use your fucking brain. We needed to find a new boss before we announce that the Vongola has no leader. If we announced to the world that the leader of the Vongola is dead _and_ that we have no replacement, we'll be attacked from all sides. Frankly, none of us want to deal with that shit, so we actually use our heads and _think_ before we make a move."

Tsuna ducked his head in embarrassment. "B-But there has got to be some c-candidates for the Decimo."

There was an odd inflection in the smoker's voice. "There are."

"Who?" He had to admit that he was curious.

"You."

Tsuna blinked.

Mukuro gave a low chuckle at the blank look on the brunet's face. "Oya, you don't know of your own ancestry? You are a descendant of the original founder of the Vongola, Vongola Primo. Surely I do not need to connect the dots." The sneer was almost audible now. "But let me repeat that so you understand: you're the next candidate, Sawada Tsunayoshi. That is the reason why you are here today."

"But I'm just a lowly messenger," he heard his voice protest weakly.

"And you're the only heir left. Enrico, the most qualified heir, went insane and tried to shoot everyone. He had fatally wounded nearly fifty people before he was taken care of. Matsumo burned the mansion down, and he died in the ensuing wildfire. We had to rebuild it from scratch. Federico, the favored one, committed suicide two days before the inheritance ceremony began, leaving us to search for another heir to take his place."

Tsuna shook his head in denial. "You don't understand, I simply can't take the title—"

"But you agreed to accept the invitation, no? What was your words again..." Mukuro's grin stretched impossibly wider. "'_Why not_?'"

His knees were shaking terribly now, and he could barely keep himself upright. "I've never fought or killed," he argued in a small voice. "I can't lead a mafia family."

"Suit yourself." Mukuro gestured at the violet-suited man. "Hibari-kun."

Hibari glared at him balefully before complying, and in his hands materialized a pair of very real tonfas. With a single movement he had crossed half the distance between Tsuna and the rest of the guardians, the latter of which were watching from the sides apathetically.

"Then we have to kill you, Sawada Tsunayoshi-kun. You know too much now to let us leave you alive."

Tsuna stared beseechingly at the violet-haired girl, at Baseball-Freak, but if they noticed his desperate pleading they said nothing.

Hibari advanced slowly, the beginnings of sadistic pleasure glinting in his eyes. "I'll bite you to death," he said coldly, almost in anticipation, and Tsuna shivered and he pulled back—

Behind him the set of double doors were locked. He didn't know how he knew it, but he knew that if he tried pulling at the doors it wouldn't open, no matter how hard he tried. He suspected that even Fuuta couldn't unlock it, and wouldn't help him if he pleaded for it, because that was just how the mafia worked…right?

"W-Wait." His voice cracked in betrayal of his fear, and he pressed a trembling fist to his mouth. Breathe, he had to breathe. Everybody was staring at him now, with those horribly apathetic eyes, and he couldn't stop shaking.

But Hibari stopped, and that was all that mattered.

"Oya, now what?" Mukuro didn't sound surprised; in fact, he looked amused. Tsuna was no longer sure if he was shivering from fear of Hibari, fear of Gokudera, fear of Mukuro, or from something else or fear of them all.

He was scared.

Tsuna swallowed painfully. "I—I'll do it. Please. I'll try to—" he tried to force the words past his throat— "I'll become the Decimo." He couldn't die. Not now. Because Nana and Kyoko still needed him.

Mukuro smiled chillingly. "Well stated, Sawada Tsunayoshi…well stated. Chrome, if you would explain the procedure to him."

The violet-haired girl, Chrome, took a shy step forward. "You won't become the Decimo immediately…we as the Guardians need to approve you, first. Every guardian will give you some sort of test in order to determine if you are adept enough to inherit the position. The order will be random."

"And if I fail the test…?"

He already knew the answer as the question left his mouth.

"If you fail the tests," Chrome said, voice impossibly soft, "then we'll eliminate you."

Tsuna closed his eyes in defeat.

"The tests will begin tomorrow, lasting for a week. Different guardians will test different things; you won't be able to prepare for them. For now, just relax. I'll show you around the mansion today and give you your room…Bossu."

He wanted to laugh aloud, to laugh and scream and cry, because just this morning everything had seemed fine and alright. But now, he only had three words to say:

Fuck his life.


	2. Discussions and Planning

**Title: **Next

**Summary: ** Tsuna never listened to rumors; as far as he was concerned, they were all lies and shouldn't be believed. But maybe he should have listened to them just this once. After all, certainly the Vongola wasn't the most feared family in the world for no reason…right?

**A/N:** Thanks to all that favorited/followed/reviewed. Here's the next update.

* * *

True to his word, Fuuta was waiting outside of the door when Chrome led Tsuna out of the room. The cheeky boy peered up at him curiously, with a knowing smile in his eyes.

"Well," Fuuta asked promptly, "how did it go?"

Tsuna shivered in response, looking anywhere but at the boy. It wasn't Fuuta's fault, he knew, but he couldn't help but to feel like he had been betrayed. From the beginning Fuuta had known that he was leading Tsuna into a do-or-die situation, and had said nothing about it. No, instead Fuuta had smiled and laughed in encouragement, which may have been heartwarming, but it didn't deny the fact that Fuuta had known yet hadn't told him.

Looking around, he tried to buy some time to save himself from having to answer immediately, redirecting his attention to adjusting his tie as he tried to choose his words. "It was fine," he finally said, and Fuuta silently gestured for more. "I mean, I—I accepted."

"Yay!" Fuuta cheered, "I was almost thinking that you wouldn't! I'm rooting for Tsuna-nii as boss!"

A reluctant smiled worked its way across his face. "T-Thanks, I guess."

Fuuta hummed and laughed, falling in tandem to the older two's steps. He reached up and grabbed Tsuna's arm, hugging it and pulling it close. They were walking down the hallway now, down an unfamiliar path, and Tsuna could say for certain that he was lost.

The tour was fairly silent after that. Chrome seemed to pay no heed to Fuuta's presence, nor did Fuuta address Chrome directly. Instead both of them spoke to Tsuna, but for what reason he wasn't sure of. He himself never replied, only tried to absorb all the information that he could while he wandered around the building.

"This room here is the kitchens—"

Which was utterly useless information, he thought distractedly, as Fuuta said that the chefs brought the food to the dining room for the faculty to eat. There was a high chance that he was going to die, and Chrome decides to point out where the food is.

"And this is the training room—"

He was unsure of how long they had been walking; he only knew that they had been walking a long time. His feet were beginning to ache, and he was beginning to rock from his heels to his balls in an effort to keep all of his weight at any given point for too long. There was no way he was able to retain all of the knowledge of all of the rooms, even the most basic of their information. It didn't help that Fuuta had decided that an explanation of the history of every room was in order.

But he had to admit that the building was very luxurious. Every room that he had visited seemed well-furnished. In the training room were seemingly a limitless expanse of machines and weights and mats; the meeting rooms had tables and chairs, chairs, and more chairs. Tsuna recognized many pieces of technology that the CEDEF used lying around the mansion. The gardens were beautiful and vibrant. Despite the initial reaction he had gotten from the meeting with the guardians, he couldn't help but to be impressed by the overall state of the Vongola mansion.

"Let's stop here for lunch."

Chrome's breathy voice claimed his attention, and he paused. They were in a dark, barely-illuminated room. There were a variety of tables resting in neat, orderly rows, and by each seat rested napkins and utensils. A few maids and butlers were bustling around near the back, loading a cart with dirtied dishes. When they saw Chrome approach and stop they stopped in their work and bowed deeply.

"Chrome-sama," they intoned. To his side Fuuta remained upright, although Tsuna noticed that he was dressed similarly to the other butlers.

She waved her hand lightly. "Continue with your work." There were some scattered nods as the noise of glass and metal once more filled the room.

With a simple gesture she gestured Tsuna to sit down in a nearby seat. He complied as she sat directly in front of him. Fuuta remained standing by the edge of the table.

"Tsuna-nii, Chrome-nee, what would you like?"

"Huh? I-I'll take espresso."

"Juice."

Fuuta inclined his head slightly. "Then, I'll be right back." Without another word he moved away, weaving around the tables and was gone.

Feeling oddly nervous he began to finger the napkin laid out in front of him. Chrome was no longer looking at him, staring absently down at her plate instead, and the silence was unnerving. He could practically feel the judging gazes of all of the maids and butlers that were bustling around the room, silently assessing his value and worth, and he didn't like the feeling. Back in the CEDEF it had never happened, although perhaps it was because he was too unimportant to worry about, but even so he couldn't get used to the tingling sensation that ran up and down his back with every glance pointed his way.

"Um—" he started, and Chrome looked up. Her sudden reaction made him shift backwards, already regretting his reactions. But now that he had her attention, he had to talk. "Um…w-what happened…to your eye?" Chrome just looked at him. "If you don't want to answer then you don't h-have to—"

"It's fine," she said quietly; Tsuna blinked in surprise and fell silent. "I'll start from the beginning then."

"You don't have to—"

She shook her head. "No, you're our next boss, you should know. Before I became a Guardian, I was very withdrawn. My parents weren't very close to me. They refused to pay for my treatment when a madman tortured me."

"Oh." He looked down onto his lip, unsure of what else he could say.

"When I was about to die," she continued softly, "Mukuro-sama came to help me. He's an illusionist; he created illusionary organs for me to survive on. He introduced me to other people too. I owe him everything I have now."

"Is he still supporting your o-organs now?"

Chrome shook her head in denial. "No, only until he finished teaching me how to use illusions. I'm supporting myself now."

Tsuna smiled faintly. It seemed that Mukuro, however sadistic he had acted with him, had a soft side to him. After all, Chrome had been the one who managed to make Mukuro back off when he was being mocked.

"I'm back!" Fuuta materialized by their sides with a platter carrying two cups balanced precariously in his hand. He placed the cups down in front of the two teens, and Tsuna bowed his head in a silent thanks. With both hands Tsuna lifted the warm cup to his lips; the espresso was hot and bitter, the perfect blend of flavor.

Fuuta settled himself on the seat beside him, shifting the chair soundlessly. He rested his chubby cheeks in between his hands. "So Tsuna-nii, is there anything you want to know?"

He swallowed. "U-Um, who are the guardians for each position?"

"Names?" When Tsuna nodded, Fuuta tilted his head slightly to his side. "You do know the colors and positions, right? The silver-haired one, Gokudera Hayato, is the Storm Guardian. Yamamoto Takeshi is the Rain—oh, the smiley guy in the blue. The one in the green—Lambo; don't know his last name. Hibari Kyoya is the Cloud Guardian; he's really antisocial, I wouldn't recommend talking to him. Rokudo Mukuro and Chrome Dokuro are the Mist Guardians."

"Is it possible to have two Mist Guardians?" he asked, looking at Chrome.

Chrome answered. "It's the first time it's happened in all of the generations of the Vongola. But yes, since up until recently we were pretty much one and the same." Her voice died off cryptically, but he didn't press her for more questions.

Fuuta tapped his chin. "And Sasagawa Ryohei is the Sun Guardian. He's really energetic and loud. The one that didn't talk, the one in the yellow, with gray hair."

Tsuna froze, the name spiraling in his mind. Sasagawa…Ryohei was Kyoko's brother? They had only met once or twice when he was younger, and the Ryohei that he knew fit all of Chrome's descriptions perfectly. Even as he thought his mouth was moving on its own, already on its own track, "If he's energetic, then why didn't he say anything? He was just standing there, off to the side, watching us."

"Ah," Fuuta smiled apologetically. "Mukuro-nii replaced him with an illusion. Gokudera-nii and Hibari-nii thought that he was too annoying. I think he's in one of the training rooms."

"Oh."

He didn't know what else to say.

When they finished their drinks they stood up and prepared to leave. Tsuna insisted on paying for the cup, but both Chrome and Fuuta deemed it unnecessary. "You're our guest," Chrome answered, as if it explained everything, and in the end Tsuna finally gave up. Then they resumed their tour.

It was hours later when Chrome led him to his room. His room was situated on the fourth floor, complete with its own balcony. Inside there was a luxurious bed, which Tsuna immediately yearned to lie on. A long wooden table was pushed to the corner of the room, and an unlit lamp sat atop of the surface. A mirror rested against the wall, and beside that hung a digital clock, which glowed red in the dark. Branching off of the room were two doors; given that he had visited hotels often in his career, he was almost certain that one was the closet and another led to the bathroom.

Fuuta handed him the keys with a slight smile. "It's not much, but it's enough to go by. If you need any food at any time, go down to the kitchens. At least one cook will be there to fetch you what you need. If you need any assistance, just press the button on the wall and ask. We'll attend to you as soon as possible. Is that everything?"

Tsuna nodded slowly. There was too much to take in with too little time, and his head was beginning to throb to the beat of his pulse.

"Dinner begins at eight. Be down in the room before then. You have different sets of clothes in your closet, but try to wear formal clothes whenever wandering around the mansion. Then, see you at dinner."

With a click, they were gone, leaving Tsuna alone with his thoughts.

He pried off the shoes from his feet and wobbled to the bed. True to his belief it was soft and warm, and without a second thought he buried his face into the covers. His eyes were heavy, and he was severely tempted to just sleep, but there was a nagging at the back of his head that he couldn't seem to shake off. At last it became too annoying and he forced himself up, grumbling in protest of having to leave the warmth, and stumbled over to the closet that his mind seemed to scream at.

Inside was an array of different clothes: jeans, shirts, pants, just the type of clothes that he himself would have worn on an everyday basis. Tucked to the side were other sets of suits that he could wear. Down near the ground were two more pairs of dress shoes, as well as slippers and sneakers that he could wear around the room. Tsuna unbuttoned his suit and slipped it off, reaching for a simple T-shirt and hoodie. They fit perfectly, too perfectly.

Now his mind was feeling strange, and he couldn't understand why. He was just sleepy, he decided: he had been sleeping less and less lately, with all of the messages that he had to pass to and fro between the CEDEF and other groups. Tsuna couldn't remember the last time he had had a decent sleep.

So he was perfectly content in crawling into the bed, five minutes later. The pillow was comfortable against his cheek, and the covers provided a warmth that wouldn't let him go. His eyes closed and all went dark.

* * *

Tsuna would have slept all that afternoon and the rest of the night if it hadn't been for the phone call.

The sharp ringing tones jolted him from his sleep. At first he lay there, grumbling in annoyance, but as it continued to ring he managed to rouse himself enough to sit up. His phone was where he had left it earlier, sitting on the table, vibrating in all its glory and singing fit to wake the entire world up. He flipped the cover up and answered.

"Hello?"

_"Tsuna-kun!"_ a voice said in relief.

"Kyoko-chan. What is it?"

Kyoko giggled. _"I almost thought that you weren't going to pick up. So, how was the meeting?"_

After Tsuna had received the invitation to the Vongola mansion two days ago, the first he had done was to call Kyoko. He had known her for almost ten years now. Before his father had died, before he had to find a job to support his mother, he had lived in Namimori, and it was there in Namimori that he had first met and befriended Kyoko. She was the person he trusted the most, the only friend that he had that hadn't left his side despite all of his faults. When he had moved to Italy, she had been understandably upset, and her sadness had touched him. Even now they kept in frequent contact.

He had never lied to her before, not even about his job. She had never asked what he had to do in the Vongola, nor what the Vongola was, because she already 'knew.' Tsuna had only withheld information, and in his mind, the two were entirely different things.

So he forced a light voice. "It went nicely." He didn't die. "I'm getting a job promotion!" To being the equivalent of the CEO of the Vongola.

Kyoko's voice was considerably happier. _"That's great! I'm happy for you!"_

"Thanks." Somehow he managed to inject a sincere tone. 'At least I don't have to talk to her face-to-face,' he thought wryly, because knowing Kyoko, she would have been able to see through his lie instantly.

_"You work in the Sicily branch of the Vongola, right?"_ she asked carefully.

"Yes, what about it?"

_"Well, Hana, Haru, and I are flying to Sicily tonight. Maybe we can see each other sometime, since it's been years! Nana already knows that we're going to Italy, but she lives too far away, so we can't meet up there. We'll be at a hotel for a week before we have to return to Namimori."_

Tsuna put his head in his hand, trying to think. He wasn't sure if the Guardians would allow him to leave the mansion for the week; they even provided him a room so that he could sleep inside the building. "I can ask if I can meet you," he said at last. "But with the promotion everything's going to be busy, so there's a chance that we can't."

_"Remember to call us though,"_ she said, pouting. _"Ah, Haru's calling me, I'm going to finish packing up now."_

"Ah, Kyoko-chan, wait a moment." God, his head hurt.

_"Yes?"_

"Your brother, Sasagawa Ryohei, he works in the Vongola, right?"

Confused, she answered, _"Onii-san? Yes he does. I'm not sure which branch he works in though, it's somewhere around the world." _Then:_ "Did you see him?"_

"I did," he answered truthfully, "but he didn't seem to recognize me. So I was wondering." Apparently the Ryohei that he had met had been an illusion, after all, no wonder why they hadn't shouted something incoherent at each other on sight.

_"Ah, Onii-san is really forgetful,"_ she laughed. _"He probably doesn't remember, since you've only met a few times; he sometimes forgets that I live in Japan. I'll try to visit both of you during our stay then."_

"See you later," Tsuna said.

_"Bye."_

He placed the phone down on the table and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He hadn't been aware that the three girls would be dropping by Italy to stay. Although, he mused, it wasn't as though he was unhappy with the twist. They hadn't met in person for so long, and Tsuna really wanted to talk to everybody again.

Tsuna looked up at the room at the mirror. Somehow his hair had managed to stick up all over the place again. He got up slowly, intent on brushing his hair, when he looked at the clock. 7:56.

"Shoot!" He ran to the door, but then he remembered that Fuuta had mentioned something about dressing formally while wandering around the mansion. Thankfully he hadn't changed out of his dress pants—come to think of it, he had forgotten—because then it would take much longer. He wiggled out of his hoodie and his T-shirt as fast as he could and put the suit back on.

As always it took forever to put on the tie properly, even in front of the mirror. By the time he was in his shoes he was panicking. The dinner had officially started over five minutes ago, and this was not a good impression he was making. Tsuna dashed out of the room, almost forgetting to lock the door, before he realized that he was completely lost.

The only thing that he could remember was that his room was on the fourth floor. He couldn't remember how he had reached his room, or how to reach the elevator and stairs. So he stood there, looking from left to right, trying to decide what exactly he needed to do.

Nana had always told him to stay put if he ever got lost. That way he wouldn't go wandering god-knows-where while everybody else tried to search for him. So although he was thrumming with haste and trepidation he stayed still, tapping his feet against the floor.

Unexpectedly he heard someone approaching. The person was muttering to himself, and as he drew nearer, Tsuna could make out what was being said.

"Why the fuck do I have to do this shit? 'Go look,' they said, and naturally I'm the one who's picked. How the hell could that brat not know where the fuck the dining room is—"

Tsuna winced. There was only one person he knew in the mansion with that mouth.

"Gokudera-kun?"

The aforementioned guardian turned a corner and walked into his line of sight. Gokudera was scowling magnificently, his hands plunged deep into his pockets. He took one glance at Tsuna and the sneer deepened until it seemed like it was permanently etched into the face.

Cursing loudly, Gokudera stormed over to where Tsuna was standing passively. "Where—the fuck—have—you—been?" he demanded angrily. Tsuna backed away, raising his hands placatingly in front of him; he didn't realize how much he had moved until his back touched the wall. And still Gokudera continued to stalk forward until the two were almost nose-to-nose.

Involuntarily he gave a little squeak. "Hiee—I don't know how to get to the dining room!"

Green eyes narrowed. "Che, damn brat," Gokudera spat disgustedly as he pulled away. The brunet allowed himself to relax slightly, sagging against the wall, as the other began to stomp back in the direction that he came from. "Well? Come with me." Tsuna complied and followed, a few steps behind.

He focused on readjusting his suit, keeping a wary eye on the man in front of him. Fuuta's face flashed through his mind, and he tugged at the tie until he was satisfied. It was too bad that he hadn't found time to brush his hair; there was no doubt that it was sticking up all over the place after sleeping.

To his satisfaction Gokudera said nothing to him as he led the way through an assortment of halls and doors. Although he was a safe distance away, Tsuna could still hear the muttered curses and insults being directed at him. He felt something in him wilt and shrivel, and he looked away from the silver hair. Instead he tried to memorize the path to the dining room.

They stepped into an elevator, which opened with a small ding, and Tsuna immediately moved to the corner as if trying to take the least amount of room as possible. The guardian looked at him and sneered hatefully.

As cheerful elevator music began to play he could feel the tension in the room twist and accumulate; he was very aware of Gokudera, and there was no doubt that the latter was true, too. He could feel Gokudera's glares piercing him, and it was all he could do to not shrink in fear.

According to the lights they had traveled two flights down before the tension finally snapped. In a coldly furious voice Gokudera began to hiss. "Let me make this clear," he snapped. "You're not fit to be the Tenth. You're so weak, so cowardly, you disgust me. If you want to live you'd better impress me, Tsunayoshi."

I hate you too, Tsuna thought tiredly, but he didn't say anything and kept his eyes rooted on the floor. The guardian stared at him for another moment before turning away, anger burning in his mind.

The elevator stopped and opened, and Tsuna peeled himself away from his secluded corner to trail after Gokudera.

When they arrived at the dining room, everybody lifted their eyes to watch them approach. The guardians sat unmoving, not touching their plates or utensils, with their hands folded neatly on their laps. As they saw the duo approach the chatter died away, replaced by a curiosity and irritation that Tsuna disliked.

A person stood up, a man with white hair and a yellow suit. "You're late to the extreme!" he bellowed for the entire world to hear. Tsuna felt his eyebrows twitch and forced himself to not plug his ears; the action would be too disrespectful and inappropriate. He noticed that none of the guardians had so much flinched at the outburst; the only response was a laugh from the Baseball-Idiot—Yamamoto Takeshi—and a small sigh from Chrome. She caught him looking at her and looked away.

Then he remembered who the loud man was: Sasagawa Ryohei. Tsuna made a mental note to mention Kyoko one way or another.

"Oya, so you actually came," Mukuro murmured patronizingly. "I was under the impression that you had run away."

Tsuna looked away. "I got l-lost."

Gokudera snorted in derision, moving away from him to sit at his designated spot at the table. The gesture was impossible to mistake, and it made his cheeks burn in shame as he took a tentative step forward and paused. The only seat empty was the one at the head of the table; the rest of the guardians sat on the sides, four on one side and three on another, with no other person sitting at the opposite end. Back at the CEDEF the section head would always sit at the table's end, where he could overlook the rest of his or her group. It was a designation of power.

The implications were clear. He ducked his head nervously as he stepped toward the seat and sat down.

They watched him; it was only when he lifted his chopsticks that they began to move, filling their plates. Spread out across the table was a grand assortment of foods. He could see a pig's head, wine, steak, and much more. It was surreal; a day ago he would have laughed at the idea of being so well-fed. Usually he would be eating something simple, such as a sandwich or a cup of ramen. Nothing too extravagant. He had never had anything so extravagant.

As he quietly ate a loud conversation was rapidly brewing between the guardians.

"What did you say, lawn head?"

"I said that you took too long to the extreme!"

"You—" Gokudera rose to his feet, pulling out multiple sticks of dynamite. Tsuna pushed back his chair hastily in case he were to actually light them.

"You're too loud," Lambo muttered as he cut another piece of beef. "Lambo-san is trying to eat here."

"Stupid cow!"

Tsuna watched silently as Yamamoto pitched in his lighthearted laugh. Watching them was almost like watching a close-knitted circle of friends; despite the differences he had the feeling that all of them got along. Their conversation seemed routine, as if it happened many times before, and it left him the feeling of being excluded, of not being involved.

He grabbed a cup of reddish liquid, which was set down in front of him by a braided maid, and took a long sip. It was delicious, and he could slowly feel his discomfort ebbing away. A violet eye appeared in the edge of his vision, and he recognized the chrome-skull eye-patch after a long moment of thought. Chrome pulled her chair closer to him, watching him unblinkingly.

"Chrome?" he asked as she settled herself down.

"Bossu," she said quietly. He could barely hear her voice above the din the others were causing.

Rubbing his forehead distractedly, he looked around the table. Mukuro was partaking in their conversation, and Hibari was sitting in the corner stoically. Occasionally the skylark's eyebrows twitched in annoyance—more than occasionally. He found himself trying to hold back a small snicker at the sight.

Chrome's soft voice brushed his ears. "Are you happy?" she asked, and Tsuna frowned. Happy was such a vague term; he wasn't sure how to answer.

"'Happy?'" he repeated, hesitant. "I-I suppose."

Her eye drifted away from him and came to a rest on the group. They were standing by now, Yamamoto and Gokudera and Lambo and Ryohei, arguing with each other loudly. Gokudera and Lambo seemed to be on the verge of starting a food fight, and there was more than one weapon being held threateningly in the air. Hibari stood up and muttered something like 'I hate crowds' before walking away.

"You're scared." It wasn't a question.

Tsuna couldn't bring himself to shake his head in denial. Gokudera's sneers, Mukuro's smirks, and Hibari's blatant bloodthirst flashed before his eyes, and he forced himself to calm down and observe the bickering family. The sight was somehow humanizing.

She leaned forward until she filled up half of his vision, dipping her head with the barest trace of a smile. "Are you scared of me?"

"You? N-no!" Tsuna backed up hastily.

Without blinking, she folded her arms in her lap and peered at him intently. "Hm, why not? I am a Mafioso, just like Gokudera-san, Hibari-san, and Mukuro-sama." Tsuna spluttered into his drink, and she gave an unexpected smile. "I'm not blind, Bossu—you're terrified of them, aren't you?"

Her blunt words made him feel uncomfortable. She was such a delicate, frail girl; it seemed somewhat mortifying that he, the future boss of the Vongola, was more cowardly than her. "T-They're scary," he attempted defensively. Grimacing at how childish his response was, he looked away, wanting nothing more than to melt into a puddle of goo.

Chrome appraised him again, leaving him feeling naked and exposed to the world. "Bossu, you still haven't answered my first question."

Tsuna sunk deeper into his chair with every word. "You're not like—like the three of them. You're nice. And delicate. And a girl." His voice grew feebler and feebler until it was barely audible in the din.

Luckily Chrome didn't seem to mind, instead nodding in satisfaction and looking back at the ruckus.

After taking another sip, he faltered for a second then whispered, "Chrome?"

She didn't stir.

Tsuna gave her a gentle smile. "Thank you."

For the first time since he had entered the mansion, he felt oddly at peace.

* * *

Fun fact: sodium pentothal is a drug that makes it harder to think straight and harder to lie. It relaxes a person around an interrogator and generally makes them more chatty and obliging with information. Now guess what was in Tsuna's drink.


End file.
